Everything Comes In Threes
by Laeta
Summary: [HC] Spoilers Body Count, The Oath sequel to VDtS. But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation,Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.
1. Blindsided

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written _View Down The Scope_ as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to _View Down The Scope_.

..... ..... ..... 

Title: Everything Comes In Threes  
Author: Laeta

Chapter 1: Blindsided

Calleigh hated to wake alone - especially when she fell asleep with a partner. However, she had to give credit for the high comfort level of his bed; though it was not as good as he himself, it was good enough. Thought registered, she wondered briefly why she had not woken when he had carried her from the sofa to his bed.

Wasting no time, she rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom where a surprise greeted her. There were a number of toiletry items waiting for her use - her favorite brands - and confusion warred with annoyance. Why would Horatio take the time to set these things on the counter if he was not there when she woke?

She heard a noise from the kitchen and settled for rinsing her mouth with the wash before she confronted the disruptor of her silent musings. They would settle the differences before she made herself at home in his house; after all, that was the message he left with the state of the bathroom.

An unusual sight awaited her within the confines of the kitchen: Sheila. Horatio was no where to be seen.

Sheila greeted Calleigh with an open, wide smile though her eyes were tired and sad. It immediately brought concern to the forefront.

"Sheila! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the school?"

Her words were bitter: "They decided I should take the day off. To avoid repercussions, of course."

"Repercussions?" Calleigh assessed the situation quickly and understood. "Because of Aaron and EMPAD."

"You got it."

"Is that why you're here?"

Sheila shook her head and sighed. "I wish it was. They got a call for a scenario early this morning; the council or whomever figured it would be better to have them at the training ground than out and about in Miami. The only way to keep them in one spot is to have them train."

That explained Horatio's absence.

"Anyway, I figured I ought to come here and pass the time with you." Sheila's expression went from amused to mischievous. "I heard you slept like the dead this morning. Busy night? No wonder you didn't hear the phone ring."

"Sheila!"

The reply was laughter and a flippant, "Okay, okay; I'll be good. Promise."

At Sheila's carefully blank face, Calleigh could only scoff in skepticism.

They breakfasted in companionable silence since Sheila had fallen asleep again not long after she arrived at Horatio's. The morning newspaper had been brought indoors, but neither made a move towards it. They already knew what the headline would be.

In the end, Calleigh broke the silence with a sigh, still mulling over Sheila's thinly veiled innuendo: "I wish he did do something."

Prompted by a question, she elaborated. "He was the perfect gentleman last night. We slept on the couch; that's it. It was a good opportunity and nothing happened!"

Sheila merely leveled a dubious expression at her friend. Oh, where was that line between privacy and need-to-know?

"Do you really think he would take advantage of a situation like that?"

Calleigh shrugged, checked instantly by Sheila's serious tone. "No, of course not. I just wish I had something to work with. Something that would tell me how far I can go."

The silence lengthened until it made Calleigh uncomfortable. Clearly, Sheila knew what that something was.

"Sheila, tell me what you know."

"Don't make me. It's not my right." The frustration shone for the world to see.

"Please. I love him. Help me understand him." Her voice had turned emotional, wavering only slightly as she said the words, instinctively knowing there was pain - past or present - involved.

Decision made, Sheila's shoulders sagged under the burden of betraying one friend to help another.

"First of all, it's not because of you he didn't do anything last night. I'm sure that, in another lifetime, he would've made a move and the consequences be damned. Okay?"

Calleigh nodded.

"You know that he was married once?"

"It's in his personnel file. Is it her name, with Yelina's, that's listed as next-of-kin?"

"Yeah. Stacy Caine, née O'Reilly."

Sheila traced patterns on the wooden table, gathered her thoughts. Even years later, it was difficult to take the high road and accept the events as they had unfolded.

"I'm sorry, Calleigh. This is difficult. Aaron, Stacy, Horatio, Ray Senior, and I, we grew up together. Anything that hurt one of them, hurt me, too."

"Sheila, I wish I could know how difficult things were. I can't unless you tell me."

She smiled for the sake of the future. Calleigh was right, and maybe it was time to let go of the past.

"Stacy moved away to Atlanta in high school; she had boyfriend there who went a little berserk when she dumped him. She came back home, attended FSU like the rest of us, and it was like one big reunion. Horatio and Stacy, they hooked up at the same time as me and Aaron did - in college. We had a beautiful double wedding."

Calleigh smiled; she had seen the pictures.

"Not long after, the guy came back, looking for Stacy. He found where they were living and came at them with a knife. He managed to cut Horatio - bad, but Horatio got him pretty good, too. Shot in the leg. Stacy called Aaron; there was no nine-one-one system back then."

Calleigh nodded.

"The guy's still in prison; Horatio and Aaron go to every parole hearing to make sure he stays there. But, Stacy's and Horatio's marriage didn't last; Horatio was willing to stick it through, but Stacy felt so guilty. She loved him, she really did, Calleigh, but it wasn't enough to overcome the fear of the guy coming back and actually killing Horatio."

"Oh, my God. Sheila -"

Sheila winced. "Horatio, he's not afraid of a relationship with you, Calleigh. I think he's afraid of past boyfriends or what-have-you's who are going to try to take you away from him."

Sheila reached out and grasped Calleigh's hands. Comfort flowed between both women.

"He's kept the scar, as a memory."

Calleigh nodded, wisely remaining silent as Sheila slowly withdrew from her shared past with Horatio.

She blinked a few times to re-insinuate herself in the present. Needing the goodness of life, the brightness in her voice and posture did not seem so artificial: "Things will be alright, Calleigh. In the meantime, I don't suggest you push things; besides, you have a bet to win, remember?"

"How can I forget?" Calleigh grinned. "Give me twenty minutes and we'll see how well I do."

"I'm feeling generous. I'll give you an hour."

"Remind me to never cross to your bad side, Sheila."

Just like that, laughter filled a house starved into loneliness.

..... ..... .....  
© RK 25.May.2004


	2. Win Or Lose

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written _View Down The Scope_ as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to _View Down The Scope_.

..... ..... ..... 

Title: Everything Comes In Threes  
Author: Laeta

Chapter 2: Win Or Lose

Sheila always had known Aaron was a member of EMPAD; it was one of those secrets that was less hurtful if it was a common one, shared by many people but never spoken about aloud. So, on occasion and in full trust, she visited the training center for the group.

The center was a big warehouse. It contained a fully equipped gym, storage rooms aplenty, and an indoor shooting range for its members. Outside, there was an enormous abandoned field, overgrown with weeds. It was there Horatio hid when Sheila arrived with Calleigh.

Aaron, relaxed in the shade of the building, abandoned his repose the moment he recognized his wife's form. He welcomed Calleigh with his habitual smile and invited them to join him.

Calleigh sat in her chair and looked over the field of weeds and, for an instant, could not understand what everybody watched. Then, a boom sounded and an object flew gracefully through the still air. A shot of report seconds later forced the object to abruptly free fall toward the ground. Minutes later, another object was airborne in another portion of the field; again, it fell to the grass.

"Where is he?" Calleigh asked the group members lounging nearby her.

Aaron focused on the field, studying the mid-air collisions. "Oh, he's probably over there somewhere." He pointed vaguely to a little rise to their left.

"I figured that out, thank you." Aaron merely smiled at the biting tone.

"We never know exactly where he is," another member said, trying to be helpful and failing.

"What? You just leave him out there, in this heat, and let him stop whenever feels like it?"

A third EMPAD member chimed in, a little too cheerfully, with a well received offer: "Well, you're welcome to find him, if you want."

..... 

There was no explaining how she found Horatio in that vast field, but she did. She was careful to remain behind his line of sight and deliberately let her shadow fall across his vision. He tensed and relaxed in the span of time it took for him to inhale and to exhale.

Calleigh jumped a little as he fired another shot; then, she used the deafening silence to sit in the grass next to him.

Now that she had found Horatio, all traces of her earlier impatience disappeared. She was content to sit at his side, letting the slight breeze play with her hair as the sun slowly tanned her skin a pale gold.

It was not a long time later when Horatio finally moved from his prone position. He reached out with one arm and pressed a button on the remote control all but forgotten in the knee high grass. The soda can ejecting machines stopped with a whirling noise, the echo resounding in the heavy air.

Rather than resettling into his former position, he shifted his weight to his other elbow so he faced Calleigh for the first time. It lasted barely a second; Horatio moved his gaze past her, towards the relative coolness of the shade behind her. She glanced where he did and found the sweating water bottle.

Handing it to him, she focused her eyes on his body rather than his face when he did not immediately take the water. She followed the line formed by the water bottle as it hung suspended in midair to where Horatio had brought his arm to rest along the length of his body.

"Sleep well?" he asked, suddenly.

Her eyes rose to meet his, gauging the sincerity of his question.

She answered honestly. "No nightmares. Not yet, anyhow."

He nodded. "It's never the nightmares, you know, that will kill you. It's the waiting."

Oh, how she understood him on so many levels. Yet, it was only possible to continue on one; they, both of them, were too exhausted for the mental complexities of such a conversation. Calleigh picked the most innocuous route.

"With shooting, you choose the moment to pull the trigger. There really is no waiting."

"I suppose that it depends on the situation, doesn't it, Calleigh?" He withdrew to a spot of internal safety just as he spoke her name.

Her eyes narrowed before she realized he obliquely referenced his involvement with EMPAD - for the first time.

"Horatio?" she called softly.

His voice was still so far away from her. "It's funny how I couldn't kill Stuart; I couldn't let him fall. But with Hagen - I was ready. I regret not pulling the trigger yesterday." Back with her in the sunlit field, his words pelted her like stones. "It bothers me how ready I was. I think I could hate myself for it."

"No!" Her vehemence had no echoing reaction in him. "You're too good for this."

"Am I?" He leaned closer, shifting his weight from his one elbow to his hand. "I dreamed last night, Calleigh. In it, I pulled the trigger. Even if you hated me for killing your former lover, it would have made me feel a lot better."

Suddenly, Calleigh understood. "There would be no past history, like it was with Stacy?"

His eyes narrowed before he realized she deliberately baited him. It was anger she wanted from him; it would cauterize the wounds that still bled upon his soul. He tried to resent her for her insight.

While he railed against his anger, his glare was unmistakably haughty. How dare she assume to know anything about him?

"I pried the story from Sheila," Calleigh confessed.

"This makes the situation better?"

"Of course not. But, I do think I've completely figured you out."

"That is a bad idea."

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that, Horatio. It feels mighty grand from where I'm sitting; a bit like love, actually." She smiled at him.

The reaction to fight drained out of him. It seemed that she always managed to cut him off at the knees. He had but one avenue left to him; to it, he succumbed gracefully and without any further rebellion.

"What would you have me do?" She merely blinked serenely at him. "What do you want from me?"

"Show me all your scars; I'll show you mine."

"I don't want you to see."

"Why not?" She positively growled the words. "You don't think anybody could possibly understand you?"

His eyes framed the truth by which he lived his life.

"Horatio, you're an idiot sometimes. Give me your gun and we'll see."

..... ..... .....  
© RK 27.Jun.2004


	3. Ten Seconds

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written _View Down The Scope_ as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to _View Down The Scope_.

..... ..... ..... 

Title: Everything Comes In Threes  
Author: Laeta

Chapter 3: Ten Seconds

How Calleigh did it, Horatio never would know but the instant he handed the rifle to Calleigh, the mood lightened. The afternoon sun somehow shone brighter; the heaviness inherent to humidity became considerably less oppressive; and her laughter sounded more musical than the most soul rousing aria.

She had missed the first target flying from the machine and had scolded herself jovially for it. The second one she had not a chance of hitting. With the third, she was considerably closer; her smile stole the breath from his body when she finally found the sixth target.

Goal accomplished, a cloud passed between the sun and where they lay; the sudden chill pricked the back of Horatio's neck. Instinct told him something had happened.

Ever attuned to his changing moods, Calleigh quietly began to walk back to the warehouse. Horatio followed more slowly, lost in thought, as he made an effort to cherish the memory of the afternoon. Somehow, he knew the idyll would never occur again - ever again. The knowledge humbled him even as he hated the injustice of it.

..... 

Raised voices and heated words carried over the distance that remained between the training center and the couple who walked towards it. Through open windows and above the garbled radio broadcasts, Horatio caught a few phrases: prison break; previous attempt; go after her again; something we can do; do not tell Horatio. And there was one word - a name, really - that broke the camel's back.

Kerner.

Calleigh turned to Horatio the moment she heard that vile name and watched as he struggled to act indifferent. She swore she could read his mind, know the thoughts he told himself.

He was just another escaped convict.

It was just an ordinary - typical - prison break.

I have lived through dozens of them; so has Calleigh.

Never mind that Kerner was hell bent on Calleigh's death; never mind that he blamed her for his incarceration. Of course, the fact that Calleigh had apprehended him the first - and the second - time he escaped did not factor at all.

Like the best of fools, the only person fooled was himself.

..... 

They tried so hard for nonchalance Horatio mentally applauded. Smiles broke over worried faces like water rapids; the silence numbed his ears.

He had to smile, however, when his teammates abandoned their efforts for genuine grins and congratulations the moment they realized Calleigh carried his rifle. Money exchanged hands amidst good-natured groans and heart-felt teasing. There was the usual boasting, until he joined the fun and queried after a percentage of the winnings.

Fun and games over, Aaron elected himself and took Horatio aside to brief him on the Kerner situation. He could see EMPAD beyond the open door, their faces returned to worry. He watched only Calleigh as she assimilated the situation.

In twenty-four hours, she had so much of life's bad side inflicted upon her. It was not fair for anybody, but somehow, Aaron knew she was capable of handling so much more. He was far more worried about Horatio.

Later, there was something in the pensive, meditative way Horatio unassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his rifle. Wondering whether it was better to break the thought process or to remain supportive whatever the case, Aaron held back, contemplating the methodical way his friend examined his rifle case and the equipment within it.

..... 

Calleigh found Horatio hours later, as it turned twilight. He perched on a windowsill and trained his gaze on something outside his window. Arms were folded and he was absolutely still.

It was this last thing that worried her. While Horatio possessed an incredible economy to his movements, for him to be completely object-like was problematic. In her experience, it usually meant he was about to cause some form of regret.

They went from a heated conversation to waiting in the night with each other and coffee for company.

Sipping her drink gave her an activity so she would not have to dwell on the photos of Kerner's prison cell. During the car ride to wherever here was, she had received and had studied them as dispassionately as she could. It took effort since he had turned his bunk into a shrine of hatred - directed to her.

Her coffee also distracted her from replaying her brief conversation with Horatio. As of now, she did not know what he had planned but his request had ruffled more than a few feathers. And rather than ask, she had responded with contempt:

"I refuse to change the way I live my life, Horatio!"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to trust me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to end this once and for all; I'm going to kill him."

Calleigh glanced to where Horatio sat upon crates. He stared into the darkness surrounding them, his face like stone where the moonlight reached him. She knew instinctively that a wall existed between the man with her and the man she fell asleep with last night.

The night cooled and so did his demeanor. Now she finally understood the phrase "cold-blooded killer". Before the dawn came, Calleigh would see just how ruthless Horatio could be when provoked - when angered, when afraid. It would be a testament to having him as a lover; could she accept this?

Aaron, by now, probably had released Horatio's statement, his reaction to the news of Kerner's escape. He had requested a shoot-on-sight command for Kerner, who was armed and dangerous; the press remained mum as Kerner's list of past convictions was released.

In the statement, Horatio also had included a thinly veiled threat to bait Kerner into a confrontation.

As a result, the third time Calleigh saw Kerner was also the third time she saw Horatio with a rifle. It was also the third time in Horatio's life that he was confronted by a loved one's past. At least this night, he could erase it forever.

..... 

Cocky and arrogant to boot, Kerner strolled into the warehouse. He found them seated side-by-side, a king and his queen in their elevated positions. Up the stairs, he approached them, gun held ready, confident in his ability to escape.

"Detective, pleasure. Lieutenant, nice to finally see you again. I heard I just missed you last time." Kerner smiled broadly, tasting complete freedom scant seconds away.

"Can it, Kerner." Voice no longer its normal smoothness, nobody recognized the hoarse grating as Horatio.

Kerner spread his arms wide, sneering. "Relax, Lieutenant. I'm not going to spoil this reunion so soon."

Horatio stood. "This is how this reunion is going to play out. My gun is in this case." He pushed the closed kit with his foot. "You get immunity if you can run faster than I can shoot you."

Immediate suspicion unsurprisingly rose within the escaped convict. "Why?"

"Simple as I've had enough of you."

Kerner grinned; he loved being the villain.

"You got yourself a deal, Lieutenant. I'll be sure to send you a postcard from paradise. But, I want her."

Calleigh could not retort; she felt like a statue, watching her life unfold without any input about her wants and desires.

Horatio did not move to stand between her and Kerner. Instead, he merely said, "No. You get a ten second head start before I start to shoot." He paused. "You better start running."

The smartest move Kerner ever made in his life was to turn tail and jump from the second story landing. Too bad it was his only and last.

As Kerner started his flight to freedom, Horatio said to Calleigh, "Keep an eye on him."

She obeyed and watched both men, still in that stagnant mode.

Two seconds, Horatio kneeled and had his case open.  
Four seconds, rifle was assembled and ready.  
Six seconds, he attached a night scope.  
Eight seconds, he glanced at Calleigh and followed where she pointed.  
Ten seconds, Kerner lay dead in a doorway, his hand sliding down from where, in life, it grasped a doorknob.

..... ..... .....  
© RK 21.Jul.2004


	4. Sleeping Love

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written _View Down The Scope_ as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to _View Down The Scope_.

..... ..... ..... 

Title: Everything Comes In Threes  
Author: Laeta

Chapter 4: Sleeping Love

Horatio already had opened another portion of his rifle case and had begun to disassemble the weapon by the time the door to the warehouse opened and uniformed officers rushed towards Calleigh and him. They barely glanced at the body, but Aaron stopped to look into the open eyes.

Shock, he mused, was reflected within them. A latex glove from his pocket helped him close the convict's eyes, even the most unlawful deserved respect in death.

He angled his head to find Calleigh and Horatio. They were still one floor up, Horatio cleaning his gun, Calleigh watching him silently.

He wondered how the future would play out after the night's event. It was difficult to imagine how it could not change either everything or anything.

..... 

She waited while he cleaned his rifle thoroughly. She listened patiently as he gave a concise report concerning Kerner's last minutes after she gave her own. She watched Horatio lose to Aaron over returning his gear to EMPAD headquarters; he fought hard on the inability to finish a job, but everybody knew he was trying to avoid her.

The shoot-on-sight command suspended a reopening of an IAB investigation on Horatio, so the coroner's office merely removed Kerner's body from the scene and transported it to the morgue. They would cremate if no one came forth to claim the body twenty-four hours after news spread of his death.

All the while, Calleigh thought over the implications of a future with Horatio.

She no longer had a past with which to be concerned, but these past two days vindicated Horatio's fear of one.

Mere minutes or hours later, she came back and saw the dreary backdrop of the warehouse again. It was completely silent save the rhythmic breathing of Horatio, seated close to her. She turned to face him and saw the way he watched her. It was as though he braced himself against rejection.

He reminded her of a statue, a perfect man willing to go to such extremes for her. Was she worthy of him?

She knew once he sacrificed everything, there was nothing but forever for him. It showed the depth of his love for her, though he could not readily voice the emotion aloud without feeling overwhelming vulnerability. Could she accept such devotion?

There was also the question of her flaws. Was she capable of opening herself to rejection as he did this very moment?

She needed time.

And her heart broke for Horatio when he made the first motion towards separation. He must have seen her hesitation; it had to be why he only suggested he drive her home. It had to be.

Yet, if her heart broke for him, what did that mean? What decision had she already made and not known?

The answer woke her from a restless sleep. It propelled her to search the phonebook for shops that sold fine art. She dialed one promising number after another until she found the perfect gift. They promised her a swift delivery; she gave them a generous tip.

She waited as long as she could before driving to Horatio's house. The sight she saw was slightly comical, to say the least: it was impossible to tell how many hours Horatio had spent studying her gift as it sat on his front porch.

"Aren't you going to bring her inside?" She started him with her question.

"Her?"

She motioned to the miniature statue. "Galatea."

He made an instant connection. "An artist's perfect creation," he said quietly, to himself mostly. His next words were directed to her though, "I'm not perfect, Calleigh."

"Neither am I," she admitted, "but I realized that if you're willing to move beyond your past for me, I had to meet you halfway."

He frowned. "I'm going to make mistakes and hurt you. That's partly why Stacy and I divorced."

"It doesn't matter. I can see that you love me; it's in everything that you do. I only hope someday you can see that telling me won't cause a repeat of what happened with Stacy. I can wait for that day because all I know is that I love you - all of you."

"You deserve more than me."

She stepped onto the porch and sat besides Galatea. Calleigh imitated the way he sometimes tilted his head when asking a suspect a pointed question.

"A statue is perfect by nature, don't you think? Symmetrical and proportional to Phi. But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy. By comparison, mankind isn't prefect; only the gods are. Do you know why the ancient Greek gods always caused so much trouble for mankind?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because they can't have love; they're too worthy of it. Horatio, until you realize that being who you are, imperfections and all, is what makes me love you, you won't accept that I do love you - even if that's what you really want."

"Calleigh, I have a confession." Horatio paused, gathered his strength. "I think I need you to help me."

She smiled brightly. "That I can do. You can start by showing me the scar from the knife incident."

"Why?"

"It's an excuse to see you without your shirt on?"

Horatio studied her too innocent expression, took another moment, and then ushered her inside his house. He placed the small statue on a table and wordlessly began to undo the buttons of his shirt cuffs.

FIN

..... ..... .....  
© RK 21.Jul.2004


End file.
